


Home is where we fucked that one time

by Fatale (femme)



Series: This complicated thing we have [14]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme/pseuds/Fatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being naked alone isn’t all that fun, as it turns out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is where we fucked that one time

Home is where we fucked that one time  
WC: approx. 570  
Peter/Neal/El

part 14 of [this complicated thing we have](http://archiveofourown.org/series/46010)  
warnings: SAPPPPPPPPPPPP

 

 

Neal steps out bathtub after a long relaxing soak, and wraps a towel around his hips. Peter and El are gone for the day to run some errands, but mostly to give Neal a little much needed Neal-time. He’s used to living alone, he can’t help that constantly sharing space, even with people he _loves_ , makes his skin itch sometimes, makes him long for just a moment to sit in silence and think.

He watches TV naked, eats ice cream straight out of the carton, does a little shuffle-dance in the kitchen, just because he can and there’s no one to see him.

He does some laundry, flips through a magazine, sits down again and clicks through all 700 TV channels. Out of a creeping sense of boredom, Neal sweeps the already clean floor, does some light dusting, thinks about painting, but decides he doesn’t feel like it, scratches his belly, pulls on a pair of Peter’s old sweatpants.

Being naked alone isn’t all that fun, as it turns out.

Neal grabs a book at random off the bookshelf, tries to sit in a sunny area and read, but he can’t concentrate. The house is too damn quiet, he decides, and turns on the radio to an easy-listening station. The sounds fill the room, and he thinks about the time he danced with El in the living room, laughing and dipping her low, kissing her silly while Peter looked on with an indulgent grin. He thinks about the way Peter came up behind him, pressed their bodies together and twisted his hips just so -- enough to take Neal’s breath away, and make him think he’d underestimated Peter’s ability to surprise him, yet again. He thinks of watching movies together, the three of them huddled together under that stupid Slanket; of thunderstorms, of Peter kissing him, open-mouthed, lips slick and hot, as rain pelted against the windows.

This is his home, no doubt. His touches are everywhere; he helped Elizabeth pick out the muted gray on the walls, helped Peter roll out the thick paint while Elizabeth edged along the woodwork. The dent in the wall, where he and Peter fought and Peter tripped on the rug and slammed against the wall, elbow denting the plaster; where Neal bent down, babbling apologies and kissed Peter’s elbow at Peter’s request, even though he felt like an idiot doing it. The dark red stain on the hardwood floor where Neal dropped his glass of wine and didn’t clean it up for hours, because El was wearing garters and they fucked on the dining room table, sweaty bodies squeaking obscenely across the polished wood.

This is his home -- and yet. It’s not really home without Peter and El in it.

The lock turns with a click and El and Peter bustle in, laughing at some shared joke. They would tell him, if he asked, but he doesn’t. Neal rakes his eyes across their faces, the mole on El’s cheek that Neal has kissed over and over, the familiar curve of Peter’s upper lip that Neal has traced more times with his tongue than he can count. He thinks of the beautiful, sometimes painful history they have behind them, and the unknowable days that stretch out before the three of them, full of petty fights, and fucking, and dancing, and love.

“Did you miss us?” El asks with a teasing smile.

“Yes," Neal says, voice thick. “Always.”

 

 

 

The end.


End file.
